


Misery and Tragedy, Hatred and Fate

by TheWritingMagi



Series: 2000 Words or Less [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, Hanehaki disease, M/M, no happy ending, robin says yes to grima
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 06:22:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16057340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWritingMagi/pseuds/TheWritingMagi
Summary: Chrom is forced to watch Robin slowly die.





	Misery and Tragedy, Hatred and Fate

The day Robin stopped being able to breathe was the same day he knew how it would end.

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” Maribelle and Lissa both told their Exalt. “He should be fine, I can’t figure out-”

Robin lay in his tent, bodies busying around him. They checked his breathing, pulse, skin, eyes, and even went so far as to cast spells to see if it was magic that was killing him.

“Save him!” Chrom would yell after every failed diagnosis. “We can’t lose him! Dammit, find out what’s wrong!”

“We’re trying!” Lissa would shout back. “We’re trying everything, Chrom, but we can’t do any more-”

The tactician shut his eyes. Everything was too loud, and his breathing was becoming more laboured with every passing second. His lungs felt tight, broken. Maybe it was his time. He wanted to laugh. Fate had perfect timing in that case.

He felt it was his duty to live, stay, keep breathing long enough to see the company through the impending apocalypse. But he no longer had the motivation. Even if they were so close, even if everything was falling into place…

Then it all had to fall apart.

Robin shouldn’t have been surprised though; his whole known life had only been the last three years with the Shepherds. He should have known that nothing would remain stable. He shouldn’t have expected a happy ending.

***

Two weeks of being bedridden later and constantly arguing with his commander that he was fine, Robin choked in the middle of the night and coughed up blood.

And a flower petal.

“Anemone,” Maribelle murmured the next morning, standing over Robin’s wreathing form with Chrom, while Lissa frantically mopped the now-pale tactician's forehead of sweat. The troubadour studied the white and bloodied flower petal closely. “He’s been cursed.”

“I haven’t been _cursed_ ,” Robin protested weakly, attempting to roll his eyes.

No one listened. “Tharja?” Chrom suggested, a dark look passing over his eyes. “I knew we should have never trusted that Plegian witch-”

“Chrom, it isn’t Tharja-”

“You’re _dying_ , Robin-”

“Chrom, it _isn’t Tharja!_ ”

The three nobles silenced at Robin’s shout. They looked at him in his pathetic, stiffened state, and Robin quieted. “I mean, isn’t it obvious already?” he forced out, hoarse after his outburst. A defeated look fell over his face. “You know _damn well_ what it is, don’t you, Maribelle?”

The Exalt and princess glanced at Maribelle, who had the decency to avoid feigning surprise. Chrom noticed. “What the hell is it?!” he cried, turning to her. “Can it be cured?!”

Robin looked Maribelle in the eye, and she could only say, “No. Nothing can save him now.”

***

Robin could endure the pain. He knew what it meant, how foolish he was. He could feel it now, in his very bones.

What hurt the most was that Chrom stayed by his bedside whenever he could, and stared with livid eyes at the tree branches protruding grotesquely beneath the skin of Robin’s chest.

The Exalt never spoke. Robin would look to him, and Chrom would not flinch, only stare silently. It was as if the two of them had nothing else to say, and could only sit and wait for death to steal Robin from his bed.

Soon. Soon it will be over

Robin wanted to comfort him, and wanted to badly to be able to say that it was alright, that maybe this was how it was meant to be. _Please don’t be burdened by guilt for the rest of your life. You didn’t love me as I loved you, and even if that killed me, it’s alright._

Chrom held him as he choked at night and hacked up the pieces of the flowers growing ceaselessly within his lungs. Robin could feel him shaking, could hear the stifled sobs as he lay doubled over in Chrom’s arms, head dizzy and unable to take a breath. He knew the guilt would consume Chrom. The tactician could still see Emmeryn’s death eating away.

It needed to end. He was ready, even if Chrom never would be.

***

His guards were powerless when the time finally came.

The majority of the army had been mobilized and moved towards the Dragon’s Table for the final battle.  Robin had been able to convince a distraught Chrom to leave him. Even if he died in the camp, alone, it would be better than his weak state on the battlefield.

But, of course, that was all part of Robin’s final plan.

When the men and women set on defending him were out of the way, never to stand again, Grima lifted the tent flap and stared at him.

“You look pathetic.”

Robin scoffed, and Grima came towards him. “My punishment, I guess,” he returned, slowly sitting up in his cot. Every movement shot pain through him, and his breathing became shallower as he continued, but he did not stop until he was standing. “You’ve come to take me.”

Grima narrowed his eyes, studying Robin as he stood trembling in agony by his own hand. “You knew I would. You _planned_ for it.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Do you think you can defeat me? Looking like that? Bold. I would not have expected that from even myself.”

“No. Not this time. Not anymore.”

A pause. Then a grin split across Grima’s face. “ _Oh._ Now _this_ , this I knew would happen.”

Robin sagged, feeling himself become more lightheaded by the second. He thought about what to say. “Can you make it stop?”

The grin widened. “Oh, my dear Robin, _I can give him to you forever._ ”

A disgusting sliver of hope lit up in Robin, and he latched on to it. “...How?”

Grima took his hands and held them tightly, pulling Robin close. “Let me show you _everything_ that I can give you.”

***

When it finally ended, when the smoke had cleared and the dust had settled, all that remained was Robin, Grima, and the corpse of the Exalt.

A darkness had fallen over Ylisse: a permanent darkness. The royal line was dead; every line was dead.

The pain finally stopped when Chrom rose again. Robin and Grima grinned together, for different reasons. Suddenly the Exalt was nothing _but_ love for Robin and Grima.

“ _Come,_ ” Robin and Grima’s disgusting voice cooed, then enveloped the compliant risen that Chrom had become into their arms. “ _Let us devour the world together, my sweet._ ”


End file.
